The Imperfect Crime
by Vrinda81
Summary: The estranged husband of Danny's girlfriend is found murdered and when she disappears, all suspicion falls on Danny. The evidence is stacking up, and it's up to McGarrett and his team to clear their beloved second-in-command's name.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **I**

Things were proceeding as usual at Five-O headquarters. The secretary was busy typing away, the clacking from her typewriter being the only noise, apart from the occasional ringing from a telephone. Danny Williams, the second-in-command, had just finished his last round of paperwork and put it in a file. Handing it to the secretary, he turned to see his boss, Steve McGarrett, come walking briskly by. Steve waved to his assistant, flashing a sparkling white-toothed smile, and went into his office, whose doors were always open.

Steve went to his desk, put his briefcase on the desk blotter, and opened the window. The Hawaiian sun was not as brutal today, and calm breeze swept into the room. The ringing of the telephone interrupted Steve's peaceful reverie and he went to answer it.

"McGarrett," he said directly. The voice at the other end spoke, and Steve's eyes opened wide in fear and his jaw dropped. The color was rushing from his face. "All right. I'll see it. Thank you." He hung up and went to the TV by the door.

Switching it on and adjusting the volume, Steve could plainly see the anchorman, a slender man with thin light brown hair in a blue suit and yellow tie, standing in front of what he recognized was the law offices of Raider, Stratton, and Associates.

"There is no further information on what took place. All police will say is that a body was found …" the anchorman spoke straightforwardly and gravely. He went on about the victim's background. He was a lawyer named Allan Raider and he had been practicing in Honolulu for twelve years, and he was separated from his wife, a former actress and model named Candice Strickland. Steve went to the door and called out Danny Williams.

"Danno, come in here!" he said, using his partner's nickname. Danno rushed in, wondering what could account for the urgency in his boss's voice when he was so cheerful minutes before.

"Do you know a Candice Strickland?" Steve asked Danno. He knew the answer, but only because Danno mentioned seeing girl named Candy, and that she was separated from her husband, who was a lawyer. That was all Danno ever told him.

"Yes, that's Candy," Danno replied.

"Is she separated from her husband?" Steve asked, the worry creeping into his voice.

"Yes, they've been separated for at least two years," Danno replied. "What's this all about?"

"What's her husband's name?" Steve asked.

"Allan Raider," came Danno's response. The newscast on the TV changed to the weather report, and Steve turned the set off. Danno had come in too late to see it.

"I just saw on the news that Allan Raider was found murdered in his law office this morning," Steve told him. Danno gasped, covering his mouth.

"The police are looking for his estranged wife. When was the last time you saw Candy?" Steve asked.

"Last Friday night," Danno answered. I went to her place in Waikiki. I got there at seven and left at nine, then I went home."

"The police went to look for her at her place and she was gone," Steve informed him second-in-command. Danno's was upset, his face turning white.

"She was fine when I left her," Danno said. "There was nothing wrong. I spoke to her last night. We were going to have dinner last night. She has an apartment in town, but then she canceled …"

"Let's get over there," Steve said.

 **II**

The house where Candy Strickland lived was on the North Shore, situated in the Mokuleia Beach Colony. The houses were arranged in a circle around a swimming pool. The landlord, a stocky, sun-tanned haole named Brighton, was introduced to Steve and Danno by an Waialua police sergeant.

"Nothing like this has ever happened here before," he said.

"Steve, Mr. Brighton got a phone call from a neighbor who saw Miss Strickland's front door ajar and her windows open, which – according to him – isn't normal at this hour," the sergeant said.

"She usually doesn't get up until very late on Saturdays," Brighton added. "We both knew something was wrong. Another neighbor, Mrs. Kollua, said she heard screams coming from here around midnight."

Danno was starting to look alarmed. Steve put a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"We spoke to Mrs. Kollua," the sergeant said. "She didn't see anyone when she looked out her window."

"Where is Candy?" Danno asked. It was the first time he spoke since they arrived.

"Candy isn't anywhere," the sergeant said. "There's some blood on the floor of her living room, leading through the kitchen and out the back door. She's nowhere to be found."

Danno looked like he was going to faint. Steve put both his hands on Danno's shoulders, trying to steady him. Danno swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I'm all right, Steve," he said.

All around, the scene was total chaos. The furniture was thrown about, and splotches of crimson stained the white carpet of the living room, leading – like the police sergeant said – into the kitchen, right to the back door. As though some unknown force was guiding him, Danno turned and ran to the back door. He still had enough foresight to take out a handkerchief and put it over the doorknob before he turned it. The blood disappeared into the grass, and there was no sign of that anyone had been there. Danno could see the sparkling waves, dotted with silver from the sun, and the palm trees blowing to the west. The scene was tranquil and in direct contrast to how he felt inside. The policemen and forensic team went about their business of gathering evidence, oblivious to Danno and his personal connection to the case.

The second-in-command went back inside, rubbing his forehead and trying to remember his every move the night before. He sat on a divan and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Steve sat next to him, putting his hand on his shoulder again. Steve knew it was better not to talk at the moment. _Let Danno think things through_ , he thought.

Steve looked around at the parts of the room that were left untouched by the assailant or assailants' hands. There were cabinets containing books, records, porcelain miniatures, and photographs. Given the intact condition of those cabinets, Steve deduced that robbery was not the motive. The photograph of Candy that sat on a coffee table depicted a woman with straight honey blonde hair, heavy eye makeup, and a smile coated in nude pink lipstick. The look was the same as that of a dozen other glamour girls around today, and not any more revealing. When Danno introduced her to him at the governor's garden party last month, Steve greeted Candy as warmly as he could, and she smiled, batted her mascara-coated eyelashes flirtingly, and shook his hand. She said what an honor it was to meet him and how Danny told her so much about him. Steve didn't whether to be flattered or annoyed. He didn't mind Danny telling his friends about him, but it was _this_ woman to whom he would rather remain anonymous. Steve just could shake loose that strange feeling he had about Candy Strickland, that she was not what she seemed, and not suitable for Danno.

It was Danno's voice which brought Steve's attention back to the current scene. "Steve … she was fine when I left. She even called me around nine-thirty to make sure I got back okay."

"How long did you talk?" Steve asked.

"For an hour," Danno answered. "I didn't pay attention the time … With Candy, I didn't need to …" Danno looked around the room. He had spent a lot of time here in the past month, which did not surprise Steve, for he did not interfere in his men's personal lives, but a police officer had a certain level of propriety to maintain. They had to lead as upstanding a personal life as possible. Danno dating a married – albeit separated – woman would tongues wagging already, but now with the woman's husband dead and her missing, there would be untold gossip. It wasn't about how Steve would answer for it, but how it would affect Danno. When tragedy struck him, he often showed how fragile he could be. He would not respond well to reporters hounding him.

"Did she sound distressed?" the HPD sergeant, who had rejoined them, asked.

Danno shook his head. "No, she was happy. We were making plans for next weekend."

"Did you find anything else?" Steve asked.

"Just the blood and some broken glass from a window in the back," the sergeant answered. "The glass is on ground outside."

"Why would anyone need to break out of here?" Danno asked.

"That's a good question," Steve replied, "and if we get our answer, it might shed some more light on this …"

 **III**

Det. Nogami of the Waialua Police Department walked over to a tape machine that was sitting on the large wooden hi-fi. Nogami was a tall, yet unimposing man. His demeanor was not unlike the politeness and straightforwardness shown by his Japanese forbearers. He was able to convey a feeling of calm, even when investigating a murder.

"Raider's secretary came in this morning and found this tape in the machine," Nogami said. "She was coming in to catch up on some work, and it was her habit to play the tape that was in this tape recorder each morning and type everything that was said. The tapes usually contained statements from Raider that were supposed to go into reports or letters." He pressed the PLAY button on the tape machine. "When she came in this morning and played the tape, this is what she heard …"

At first, they heard Allan Raider's voice giving the usual legal dictations, then there was a pause, after which they heard some footsteps, and Raider cry out, _"You? What do are you doing here?"_

Then, a familiar voice shouted, _"I've come to give you what you deserve, Raider …"_

Raider is heard protesting. _"Williams, put that gun down! Put it down!"_ Two shots are fired, then Raider is heard crying out in pain, then a loud thump as his body tumbles to the ground. The tape played on silently after that, when Nogami pressed the STOP button.

Danno sat poleax, while Steve was incredulous. "That could not be Danno," he said. "Danno doesn't know Raider."

"I never met him before in my life!" Danno cried.

"I'm not saying Danno did anything," Nogami replied. "I'm just playing the tape as it was found. Someone, sounding like you with the same last name, came in here last night and shot Raider."

"I have an alibi," Danno said.

"Only if we find Candy," Steve reminded him. "And she's disappeared. Did anyone see Danny enter this building yesterday night?"

"No one did," Nogami replied. "The secretary left at seven and didn't see anyone matching Danny's description enter, as did the night watchmen, but there is a back entrance that the partners use, and they each have a key …" He pointed to a paneled door and went to open it. The door opened onto an elevator shaft. "The elevator leads up from the first floor. The elevator is key-operated as well and, again, only the partners have the keys."

"Have it dusted thoroughly for fingerprints," Steve ordered. "I want to know exactly how many people where in there and their names, if we can find them. I'll bet you Danny's fingerprints will be nowhere inside it."

"If they could get my voice on tape, it wouldn't be too hard for them to get my fingerprints," Danno said, sounding dour.

"Don't be so sure." Steve rubbed his chin. "Check on all the talent agencies that specialize in voiceover and impressionists."

Just then, Che Fong the forensic scientist, entered with his tool kit and magnifying glass.

"What have you got, Che?" Steve asked.

"Negative," he said. "Danny's fingerprints aren't here …" Steve looked over at the garbage can.

"But Raider's garbage can revealed something interesting …" Steve held up the wicker waist basket. Inside were crumpled pages from a yellow legal pad, some partially burned. One of the other forensic technicians extracted them using a pair of tweezers.

"Someone was trying to cover up their trail," Che replied.

"The secretary says that the garbage cans are emptied every evening," Danno said.

"And they said no one was in here last evening," Steve added.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **I**

Curt Mayward was a tall and imposing man, though Steve McGarrett did not feel the least bit inadequate. His partner, a discerning, observant young woman named Jayna Berringer, was not taken in by the charm that Mayward tried to project. The lawyer's gingerbread hair sat thick and lacquered on his head, while his deep blue eyes stared at the two detectives with suspiciously. His walk was proud and deliberate, and it only made the Five-O chief and his aid suspect Mayward even more.

"Look, McGarrett, Allan was a criminal lawyer, so he'd naturally have many enemies," Mayward said as he tapped a pen on the desktop. "He didn't get all his clients acquitted."

"So you think one of his clients was responsible for his death?" Steve asked, crossing his arms and glaring incredulously at the lawyer.

"I'm not saying anything of that nature," Mayward replied. "Allan never said anything to indicate he was in danger, and I saw no signs of it."

"Did you ever meet his wife, Candy?" Steve asked.

"On occasion at some social events, but I never got beyond the usual greetings," Mayward answered. "Candy liked to talk, just not to me."

Jayna surveyed the room. It was a standard lawyer's office with cherry wood furnishings stocked with legal volumes in blue, red, and maroon bindings; a black leather sofa, and an oriental rug. There was a window behind Mayward's desk that looked onto the parking lot. Another door stood across the room from where Jayna sat, perpendicular to the desk. It most likely opened into an alcove with more legal volumes and a long table for conferences. Jayna didn't know what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she didn't see it here.

"Did Raider ever talk about her?" Steve asked.

"Not that I remember," Mayward answered. "He told me when they separated. That was about fifteen months ago. I didn't press him for details. It was none of my business."

"Then you have nothing against us going through Raider's case files," Steve asked.

"Suit yourself," Mayward said. "If you're able to locate that one suspect out of thousands, you'll be performing a miracle."

Steve cast a scornful look.

 **II**

Danno practically wore out the carpet in the Five-O office, despite Chin and Kono's efforts to comfort him. It had been over eight hours since they found Raider dead and Candy missing, and no leads had turned up. A search of the neighborhood where she lived turned up nothing. The only fingerprints in that house belonged to Candy, Danno, a housekeeper who came once a week, and a plumber who came to fix a leaky faucet last week. A thorough search revealed no jewelry or money was stolen. Even Candy's diamond solitaire engagement ring from Raider was still in the jewelry box, as was her wedding ring on her finger.

"I just don't get it," Danno collapsed into a white leather armchair. "It wasn't a robbery, there was no sign of a break-in, yet there was a breakout … but the intruder could have opened the back door … why break the glass … and where's Candy?" He was starting to panic again, before Chin put his hand on the second-in-command's shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

"She'll turn up, Danny, there's still hope." But Chin was only trying to be kind. He didn't know what to think any better than Danno.

Steve was in office, staring out the balcony. His men knew not to disturb him, for that was when he was deep in thought. Steve was scared, and had good reason: the evidence was making things look grimmer for Danno, as he was still the prime suspect in Raider's murder and Candy's disappearance, though no physical evidence was found or proven to link him. Their only hope now was Che's findings from the comparative voice analysis test. If it wasn't Danno on that tape, that took the case in another direction.

Jayna sat patiently, waiting for her boss to speak. She had only been working with him for one year, though she knew him longer. It naturally upset Steve when one of his men was implicated in a crime, especially under bizarre circumstances such as this. Jayna would gladly offer her services in Intelligence, but Steve forbade her to have anything to do with them when she left to join Five-O. However, having been in naval intelligence for twelve years, he knew such ties were hard, if not entirely impossible, to break.

Steve turned around to look at his assistant. His eyes softened, their sapphire blue spark turning dim. That was how Steve felt whenever he looked at Jayna Berringer. He treated her as an equal like all his men, but he still felt a need to be protective of her. It stemmed from primal instincts, the male's need to be the guardian of the weaker species. Jayna, instead of resorting to feminist scoffing, understood Steve's affection for her and his actions, and when he told her something was not safe and not to do it, she listened – except abandoning Intelligence. Once you were in, you were in. Leaving was only a term on paper.

"Jayna," Steve began, "I want you to tap your sources in Intelligence. Have them dig up all they can on Candy Strickland. I was suspicious of her from the time she first latched onto Danno. Their meeting was no accident."

"You got it," Jayna said. "Is that all?"

"That's all," Steve answered, "and only speak to them long enough to get that information. Don't let them get too friendly."

"All right, Mom," Jayna said with a faint smile as she walked out. Steve shook his head and smiled.

The intercom buzzed, and it was Steve's secretary Jenny, telling him that Che wanted to see him and Danno.

"Thanks, Jenny, we're on our way!" he called.

 **III**

The speech pathology department at the University of Hawaii at Manoa had a large room covered in giant computers with various colored dials and monitors. The machine used for voice comparison analysis was a mint green box the size of a buffalo. The black line on its monitor represented the voice on the tape from Allan Raider's office, Dr. Burlison told them. The scientist was a gray-haired, bespectacled man in his fifties, the visual stereotype of a scientist, but his demeanor belied that notion. He spoke with a cheerfulness and enthusiasm which showed not only passion for his work, but his reaction to the results of the analysis.

"This second screen here," he said, pointing to a second monitor with a flat black line going across the cream-colored background, "represents a recording we had Mr. Williams make, using the same wording as the original tape."

The scientist and the two detectives watched as the lines on both screens gave different readings while the two tapes played simultaneously.

"It's negative," Dr. Burlison said. "The voice on this first tape is not Mr. Williams's."

"Thank you, Doctor," Steve said. "It's not really a relief, though. We knew it wasn't him all along, but now this proves there's a bigger conspiracy."

"Who would do such a thing?" Danno asked, the fear showing in his boyish blue eyes. His teeth started to shiver, and he held his fist to his mouth to stop it. Steve wished he could do more to comfort his assistant, but at least they could prove he did not go into Allan Raider's office on Friday night and shoot him.

 **IV**

The light blue Ford Galaxy stood apart from the other cars, not just because of its color, but also because of its occupants. Jayna's old boss from Intelligence, Philip Norton, sat in the back seat. He was a tall man with ash blonde hair like Danno's, but it was straight and smooth like Steve's. He had the same lantern jaw and high cheekbones of the Five-O man, but lacked his softness and gentility. His driver was a nondescript dark-haired man with the same square jaw and black suit and tie so many of his kind in that business wore. He looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging Jayna as she stepped inside the car.

"How's everything at Five-O?" Norton asked, though he was not particularly interested.

"I thought you had the place wired?" Jayna asked casually.

"We did, until your boss found the bugs," Norton replied with equal dispassion. He handed her a thick manila envelope. "Everything you ever wanted to know about Candice Strickland. She sure got around."

"Just what was your business with her?" Jayna asked, looking at the size of the envelope.

"None, but my friends at the FBI were after her," Norton answered. "The information is all in there. Steve McGarrett will not be able to stop reading it once he starts."

"I hope he will stop long enough to tell us if anything in here can clear Danno," Jayna said.

"He should. Candice has quite a past on her." Norton took out a package of cigarettes and lit one. He knew not to offer one to Jayna, since she didn't smoke. "Her disappearance is not as simple as it sounds."

The nicotine-scented smoke drifted through backseat briefly, then vanished through the small opening created by the window.

"Thanks, Phil," Jayna said, turning to leave. "I guess I owe you one."

"I'll come to collect sometime," he replied, not looking at her and still puffing away. I'll let you know when. Give my regards to Steve."

"I'll tell him you're all thinking of him," Jayna said, with a sardonic tone. She closed the car door and walked away. Phil motioned to the driver, and the Galaxy took off and headed out of the parking lot as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **I**

Steve turned the last page of the report and sighed. "It's a good thing Danno isn't here right now," the Five-O chief said as he shook his head.

"That's why I called before coming in," Jayna said.

Steve continued to peruse the thick file. "This is explosive," he said. "Candice Elizabeth Strickland was born in Dallas, Texas, on March tenth, nineteen forty-three. Her father was a military man, and she graduated from high school in California. She then made her way to Hollywood looking for work in the movies, and got some bit parts and modeling jobs. She was a hostess in one of Sammy Cassano's nightclubs. In nineteen sixty-four she moved to Hawaii and married Allan Raider…"

"Then got separated two years ago," Jayna added, "I checked with the landlord. Candy rented that cottage in nineteen sixty-seven. She met Danno one year later …"

"It gets better," Steve warned, resting his chin on his fist. "Cassano was trying to establish some operations here, but the local crime bosses were not having it. Raider was supposed to take care of business for him legally, and defend those associates of Cassano's who were taking the illegal route to set up shop …"

"Then Raider might have crossed Cassano, or defended one of his employees and lost," Jayna suggested.

"Or it might be another of his clients unrelated to Cassano." Steve went back through the report again. "There is a long list of suspects who worked for Cassano in Hawaii," Steve said. "Have Jenny make copies of this and give them to the others." Steve handed her the sheet. "Getting back to Candy, she was also a suspect in a murder … a federal agent named Frank Birkin was killed in Los Angeles in nineteen sixty-three. He was working undercover at one of Cassano's nightclubs – the one where Candy worked – then he was found shot dead in woods outside San Bernardino. Candy disappeared shortly afterwards."

"Candy most likely knew something about that murder, and so did Raider," Jayna said. "Each knew something that could implicate the other, so they got married so neither could testify against the other, and left the mainland to get away from any investigation. Then, Candy decides she wants out of this marriage of convenience, and Cassano finds out somehow and has Raider killed so he doesn't implicate him, and has his boys put Candy on ice to make sure she doesn't talk."

"Then why not kill her like Raider?" Steve interjected.

"Because she's sitting on some large take from Cassano's coffer and are trying to get her to talk." Jayna spoke directly, as though she knew it for a fact when she was only guessing.

"Stranger things have happened, but that still doesn't explain how Danno fits in." Steve clenched his fist in rage. "They faked his voice on that tape."

"All to create a patsy, and maybe to get even with Danno for putting some of his men away," Jayna added. "We already found three who worked for Cassano who Danny helped arrest. Raider didn't defend them, but the motive fits." Jayna pointed to their names and mug shots on the bulletin board.

The first was Tony Alvarez, a bouncer from one bars in Waikiki said to be owned by Cassano. The second was Oscar Malikai, a bagman for Cassano's shakedown operation, and the last was Roy Comstock, another heavy who accompanied Malikai on his collection route.

"Alvarez was arrested in domestic violence dispute involving a girlfriend, and Malikai and Comstock were arrested when one of the merchants they were shaking down had enough and pulled a rifle on them.

"Good for the merchant," Steve said, smiling for the first time since Jayna came in.

"He held them at gunpoint until the police arrived," Jayna continued. "Cassano's name came up, but after reading all this, you're right about these guys not being worth the effort."

"It's part of the territory when they're in a job like this." Steve walked up and down. "Then vengeance is out of the question. If it's Cassano, I can see him killing Raider and Candy and setting up Danno to cover up his role, but why Danno, then, if it isn't about arresting low-ranking three hoods who did dirty work for him?"

Jayna had no answer, and Steve went back to the file. After a minute or two, he tapped his finger on a page, his face turning from unsure to certain. "Jayna, either you're psychic or you were holding out on me." Jayna looked at her boss bemusedly. "There's a suitcase with five hundred thousand dollars from a heroin sale that disappeared shortly before Candy and Raider fled California," Steve said.

"To whom did it belong?" Jayna asked.

"Cassano," Steve replied. "Frank Birkin was involved in the transaction. He wore a wire, and they got it all on audiotape."

"So she killed Birkin and made off with the money," Jayna said, "but why were the two of them doing holding onto it? I thought they would have given it to Cassano."

"Birkin was last seen two days after the pickup," Steve said. "His job was to hold onto the money until Cassano's bagmen could come and get it. When they got to his apartment, he was gone. They searched everywhere, as did the FBI and the police. An informant tipped them off about Candy and Raider disappearing."

"So she and Raider planned this heist so they could have a nice nest egg," Jayna said. "It's too simple."

"That's because we're only guessing now." Steve got and went to the balcony. Jayna tapped her pink-manicured nails against the leather armrest.

Steve turned back to her. "We should check out Alvarez, Malikai, and Comstock, and also Mayward and the rest of the lawyers at that firm. I think they're hiding something." The sun was shining brighter, with stronger rays casting a glow on Steve's desk.

"Mayward struck me as a phony," Jayna said. "He seemed afraid of us."

"And he has good reason to be scared," Steve seethed. "If he knows anything more about this case then he lets on, I'll pay him another visit, and it won't be as pleasant." Steve's sapphire eyes turned fiery.

 **II**

Danno spent the rest of the day sitting around his apartment. Once his shift was over, Steve insisted that he go home and get some rest. Danno couldn't, knowing that someone was out to frame him for murder, on possibly two counts. He stared at the picture of Candy that he kept on his coffee table. He thought it was too glamour girlish, but Candy told him she liked the look. The long, silky, honey blonde hair was pulled back at the crown, and flowed like golden waves about her shoulders. The finely-groomed eyebrows arched over eyelids covered in an ashy lilac shadow. Her eyes were thinly lined with black kohl, and her eyelashes were laden with coats of mascara and false eyelashes. Her high cheekbones were dusted with peach blush, while the hollows of her cheeks were contoured in bronze. Her lips were lacquered in peach lipstick and gloss, while gold earrings dangled from her ears and a thick, gold necklace with rectangular beads hung around her neck, just touching the color of her cream-colored silk blouse. Her face was serious, her eyes direct and intense, her mouth firm, and her jaw pronounced. It was a face at which one could not look only once, and goodness knows Danno stared into that face in the flesh countless times.

He remembered how she walked up to him at that party at the governor's mansion. It was the early spring of last year, and a warm breeze punctuated the air in the garden. Her scent was of warm sandalwood, wild violets, and scintillating jasmine. She sashayed towards him like she was walking on air. It was like being in a dream. What would this beautiful girl want with him, a cop?

When she spoke, he found out. "Hi, there!" she called in a voice that sounded like the wind on a moonlit night.

"Hello," Danno said, trying to hide his bashfulness. She stepped out from the lush greenery, almost as though she came from it.

"I'm Candy," she said, extending her hand. Danno took it, shaking it like it was a delicate twig on a branch.

"Hi, Candy. I'm Danny." The bashfulness was gone.

"Care to walk with me?" she asked. She put her hand on his shoulder. The girl was forward, but Danno didn't mind. They spent the whole evening with each other and he didn't want to leave her side for a minute.

When the night was over, he walked her to her car, and he gave her his phone number and she gave him hers. They called each other the next day, and every other day since then. Despite how much they talked, he realized he didn't know her as well as he thought. He didn't give a second thought as to where Candy had come from, not geographically, but her family life – parents, siblings, extended family. She just glossed over them, telling him she didn't keep in touch with them that much. She was more concerned with the present and future. She came to Hawaii to escape the past, she told him. He was her present, she told him, and hopefully, her future. The memories made his eyes start to water, and Danno wanted to cry out, but no one was there to listen.

 **III**

Curt Mayward tossed down vodka on the rocks. It was nighttime, and he was waiting. He stared at the phone, knowing it would ring at any moment and the voice at the other end would have lots to say to him. The phone did ring, and the voice at the other end told him to listen closely.

"They did take his case files. I haven't heard anything yet ," Mayward said. "… Yes, okay. … They are suspicious …" The voice at the other end spoke for a few more minutes.

"I'll make sure of it. It was all set up last month, when she brought that big overnight bag with her." The nervousness dissipated, and a big grin took over Mayward's lips. "If that doesn't work, nothing will." The caller went on.

"I'll make sure to relay that to her. She's waiting on pins and needles now. … Yes, yes. Of course. … Good-bye." Mayward hung up.

The bedroom door opened, and she came out, dressed in see-through pink nightgown that reached the floor, and pushing a tuft of her honey blonde hair back. Her light pink lips parted to reveal perfect white teeth grinning malevolently.

"I hope you told him I did my part," she said. Her slippers dug into the carpet as the edges of her lingerie danced across it.

"I did, Candy," Mayward replied. "There's a lot of work to do." He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her.

Their lips locked for a brief second, then when Mayward tilted his head back, Candy Strickland smiled and began to laugh. Mayward's grin from earlier had disappeared, and his face took on a beleaguered look once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **I**

The ride back to Candy Strickland's townhouse was quiet, in an eerie way. Danno was in no mood to talk. He was thinking, thinking of who might have killed her. He was off the suspects' list for the moment, but he could not rest easy. Steve understood, and decided to let Danno have his own space and be left alone, but he needed Danno to remember, remember anything and everything he saw that might be of importance.

Danno recounted the evening's events to Steve. After leaving the office at seven Danno drove to her house on Mananai Place in Halawa.

Danno was stared out the window. "Candy might be dead!" he cried. "She might really have been kidnapped, Steve, to get her to tell them where the money is …"

"Her purse, passport, and wallet were also missing," Steve said. "Which kidnap victim remembers to take those with them? The glass from her kitchen window was lying on the grass outside, which means someone tried to make it look like there was a break-in, only they got their direction wrong, and there's more …"

It was time for Steve to come clean. "I have a feeling she isn't dead," Steve said. "Jayna and I didn't want to tell you until we were sure, but I had Jayna get her contacts in Intelligence to find out more about Candy …"

"You checked Candy's background?" Danno sounded like the concept was foreign to him. "How could you?"

"Get a grip, Danno," Steve said, turning to him briefly, then putting his eyes back on the road. "You're a cop. You know full-well that background checks are a part of every investigation."

"But Candy's clean …" Danno began.

"She's as clean as the bottom of my shoes," Steve said, "after I step through a puddle of mud." He told Danno about the file the FBI had on her. Danno's face didn't change. He stared at his boss disbelievingly.

"Danno! How can you be so naïve? Are you forgetting everything you were taught as a police officer, all over a girl with a checkered past? What can I say to get things through to you – Candy Strickland is a phony!"

Danno was not moved. He still didn't believe what Steve was telling him. "She left California a week after a suitcase containing half a million dollars from a narcotics sale also vanished. An undercover FBI agent named Frank Birkin was killed around the same time and his body was found later in the woods near San Bernardino. Birkin was working undercover as one of Cassano's employees. Candy is a suspect in his murder. She and Raider came here, got married, and probably sat on that money the past five years."

Danno didn't speak at first. His knees shook, and he started to shake all over. Steve pulled over to the side of the road. Danno opened the door and walked out, slowly and tiredly. He walked to a tree and leaned against it. Steve ran up to him and put his arm around him.

"You couldn't have known," Steve tried to comfort him. "It was her job to make people think she was for real."

"But I should have known better," Danno said, balling his hands into fists. "I should have been more careful …"

"If we all had that ability, Five-O would be out of business," Steve replied with a faint smile. He got up and patted Danno's shoulder.

Danno got up and walked around. "Now she's out there, either dead or on the run herself, and someone's tried to set me up for it …"

"We'll find out," Steve said. "Did Candy have any friends in this area?"

"She never mentioned anyone," Danno answered, running a hand through his curly hair. "She kept to herself most of the time …" He lay back, his head softly crashing onto the fluffy pillow.

"Just what the neighbors said." Steve poured some water from a pitcher into a glass and handed it to Danno. He took a sip.

"She spent a lot of her time gardening," he remembered. "She planted roses, and lilies."

"Did she say what work she did?" Steve asked.

"She said she had some money saved up from an old job," Danno answered.

"I bet," Steve fumed. "A house in Halawa, and an apartment in Honolulu, all with money she had tucked away. I'd like that setup, too." He got up and went to the window, staring out at the green courtyard with all its palms and shrubbery.

"We used to go to this place on the North Shore … it was just a beach, but we would walk around there when we had the time … that was all. Then we out to dinner or lunch sometimes, but it was just us. I asked her about her family. She said he didn't talk to her family that much, and I never pressed her. She got jumpy when I asked about them, so I backed off."

 _Another red flag_ , thought Steve. The FBI file told them everything about Candy's family. They were still in California, and had not heard from her for several months. Even then, she rarely spoke to them.

"It's all too much, Steve," Danno rubbed the sides of his forehead. "I don't know what to believe now."

"Let's get going," his boss advised. Steve started walking back to the car. He turned, looked back at Danno, and said, "We're going to get to the bottom of this, I promise."

 **II**

The man called Sammy Cassano was not a formidable man. He looked like a frivolous, older playboy. His skin was the result of many hours in the sun, a golden honey hue which made his green eyes stand out in stark contrast. His black hair was showing flecks of gray, but it didn't stop him from attracting those of the female persuasion. His wide forehead gave way to high cheekbones and a narrow chin, with a dark mole on the right side of his mouth, between his nostril and upper lip.

His hands were rough and long-fingered, and his clothes were made of the finest material by the most master tailors of Europe. Today, he was decked out in a dark blue wool suit, with yellow shirt and dark yellow silk tie, accented with tiny square-shaped black dots. A matching yellow silk handkerchief stuck out of his left breast pocket. His black Italian shoes shone to perfection, and he smelled of cologne made with tobacco, citrus, and sandalwood.

The young blonde in the slinky black dress could not keep from lingering around him, but Cassano was not paying her any attention. He had his eyes set on the red-jacketed waiter who approached him with a note.

"A call came in, sir." The waiter handed the note to Cassano.

"Thank you," Cassano said as he waiter nodded and walked away.

"Another admirer?" the blonde asked, her enthusiasm turning to disenchantment.

"Wait for me at the bar."Cassano unfolded the paper.

"Aye, aye, sir." The blonde made a slapdash salute, turned languidly, and strolled away to the bar. Cassano read the note and shook his head. He went to bar and asked for the phone. The bartender handed it to him and went to tend to a customer. Cassano dialed a long distance number and after speaking to the operator, the call was connected.

"This is Cassano. I got your note. … Yes, yes. That's good. Make the call today. … They should find it in no time. … You know what to do afterwards …" Cassano smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth. "That's perfect. Make sure they don't find a trace. …" He was careful not to say too much since there were others around who could be listening. "There'll be an extra bonus for you once the job is done satisfactorily. … You'll get it when you bring back my money. … Bye." He hung up. "Get me a bourbon on the rocks," he called to the waiter. He took the drink and went over to the blonde.

"Did you take care of business?" she asked in a deep, sultry voice. Cassano cupped her chin as she looked up at him.

"Yes, and I may be recouping some losses in the process." Cassano leaned in and kissed her.

 **III**

The journey to Halawa was a little more cheerful than when it began. Danno was awake and more alert, looking out the window at the scenery as Steve shot occasional sideward glances at his partner every now and then. Steve had just as much reason to be scared as Danno. If it only went as far as the phony tape, then they would be safe, but Steve had a feeling that this was only the beginning. If someone was clever enough to hire someone to impersonate Danno's voice onto a tape which allegedly depicted Allan Raider's death, what else could they do?

They got to the cottage and parked in front. There was still a yellow tape across the front door. The landlord let them in and Danno went about looking around.

"Anything you remember?" Steve asked. The only sounds were from the rustling ocean and chirping birds, and they gave off an eerie vibe.

"I just don't see it, Steve," he said. "Candy was not a shrinking violet. She wouldn't let anyone take her without a fight …" he looked around at the carpet, where a large hole had been cut to remove the blood-stained part.

"The front door and windows were open as early as eight o'clock yesterday morning," Steve said. "You said she had no relatives around here, and never talked much about herself …"

"I didn't ask her much about her life. I didn't want her to think I was nosey." Danno looked at the paintings on the wall. They were ordinary land and seascapes that could be picked up at any retail store.

"I understand." Steve nodded. He knew trust was important in a relationship, and to smother a woman by getting too close to her would spell the end of it. "Did she keep an address book of any kind? We didn't find one."

Danno thought a moment. "No address book but …" He looked around. "She kept a diary!"

Steve's eyes lit up like his partner's. "A diary? Do you know where it is?"

"I only saw her writing in it once …" Danno looked at the fireplace. "She put it away quickly. She didn't know I saw her with it." He went to the desk in front of the window and pulled out the drawer. There was only a pad of white paper and some extra pens.

"How often did she come here?" Steve asked.

"Every weekend," Danno said. "I came here to stay with her every other weekend." They opened up every drawer and looked under every cushion and knickknack. It was nowhere to be found.

"I'll have Nogami and his men look for it," Steve said. "She may have taken it back to Honolulu."

"Even then, I don't know if it will say anything that will help us," Danno said, looking downwards and shrugging his shoulders.

"Any name, place, or event she writes about might give us a hint as to what happened to her," Steve said. Danno continued searching. He went into the kitchen and looked around. Danno walked outside to look at the grounds. The place was neatly trimmed without a leaf out of place. Danno looked around the patio. He saw something white laying in the shade under the outstretched leaf of a canoe plant. It was an empty packet of Gold Coast cigarettes – a brand which Candy did not smoke. It may not lead them to whomever kidnapped her but it was a lead. He took out the wrapper with a handkerchief and showed it to Steve.

"She didn't smoke this brand, Steve. It was always Tareytons with her."

"So she had a visitor," Steve said, examining the carton. "There were no cigarette butts found in the ashtrays or the garbage cans, or patio. Someone could have dumped them down the sink or toilet, but that implies that the kidnapper was here for a while before he and Candy left or – if Candy was in on this – that she and the kidnapper stayed to clean up and stage the crime scene."

"It doesn't explain the blood on the carpet," Danno replied.

"Che is working on that," Danno told him. "Let's have a talk with Mr. Brighton."

The landlord of the cottage community had nothing to hide. Steve and Danno had apparently interrupted him in the middle of a game of solitaire.

"Candy was just my tenant. She paid the rent on time, kept the place clean, and that was that," he said, shuffling some a playing cards as he spoke.

"You never saw anyone apart from her enter cottage at any time?" Steve asked.

Brighton thought a moment. "She lived here for two years … it would be hard for me to keep track … but I remember a man coming there a few times. I remember from seeing his picture in the paper. It was that husband of hers, the one who got killed. It was only in the first few months that she lived here. He came by once a week or so. My wife also saw him. We didn't think much of it at the time. One time, he came by and she wasn't home. I told him she wasn't there and he left. I haven't seen him around in two years."

"Any more recent visitors?" Danno asked.

"Apart from you, there was no one else," Brighton said. "Weren't you seeing her?"

"Yes, and he has an alibi," Steve cut in. Danno had an alibi which could not be proven, but Steve didn't have to go into detail and Brighton didn't know differently.

"I'm not accusing anyone," Brighton said. "I just didn't see anyone other than your partner going into her place. If you want to know more about what goes on here, you should talk to Mrs. Manolani in Cottage Thirty-Two. She's home all day, and has nothing better to do than snoop around."

"There's one in every neighborhood," Steve murmured.

Mrs. Manolani was every but the nosey neighbor, since she was home all day and could see everything from her large living room windows. She was in her late forties, with salt and pepper-colored hair tied back in a bun, lips coated in red lipstick, and a slender figure clad in a light yellow housedress. She sat with one ankle resting on the opposite knee on a red armchair, across from a bamboo-framed sofa on which Steve and Danno sat.

"I remember you," she said, pointing at Danno. "You were Candy's boyfriend. I'm so sorry about what happened. I've seen you before and I recognize your car, but you weren't here Friday night."

Danno felt relieved. _At least someone can vouch that I wasn't here_ , he thought.

"I was sitting at my window that night, just looking around. I try not to be a busybody, but someone has to watch out for things … Mr. and Mrs. Brighton do the best they can, but they're not always alert. Mrs. Brighton has her bridge club and show horses …"

Steve wondered if he made a mistake coming here. This woman noticed a lot, but couldn't discern what was suspicious from what wasn't. " … and then while I had the casserole in the oven, I went back to the window, and that was when I saw _him_." She emphasized that last word as though the detectives should have known what it meant.

"Who is _him_?" Steve asked.

The joviality was gone from Mrs. Manolani's face as she spoke. "A strange man I never saw before … one of those rough-looking _k_ _ _amaʻāina.__ _He had thick curly hair, and a tattoo of a dolphin on his arm, and one with a tribal eagle on the other …"_

 _Steve and Danno looked at each other. There was only one man they knew of who had a dolphin tattoo on one arm and a tribal eagle on the other._

 _ **IV**_

Frankie Pinto was a known fixture in Hawaii's organized crime world. He never killed anyone, or at least it could not be proven, but he was nearby when many bodies were placed six feet under or when extortion money needed to be collected. Frankie also had a dolphin tattoo on his right arm and a tribal eagle on his left. He was the only criminal known to law enforcement officers in Hawaii who had both in those places, and when the Waialua police showed up later with a photo of him to show to Mrs. Manolani, she made a positive identification. Steve and Danno then made the long trip back to Honolulu, calling Chin to make sure he picked up Pinto and held him until they got there. Pinto and Steve were sitting in Steve's office when he got back, and Pinto acted as cool as ice.

"Say, McGarrett," he said casually. "What's going on?" He tapped his fingertips on the leather armrest.

"You tell me, Frankie," Steve said. "Where were you on Friday night?"

"At home, drinking with my friends," Pinto replied. He seemed apathetic.

"Was one of those friends Candy Strickland?" Steve asked.

"Candy who?" Pinto asked. He sounded as though he genuinely did not know who she was. Steve knew better.

"That woman who disappeared whom you visited in Halawa on Friday evening," Steve corrected. "We have a witness who positively identified you as entering Candy Strickland's house sometime after eight pm."

"She's identified me wrong," Pinto insisted. "I was here, at home. I've got three witnesses who can say so."

"Three witnesses whose rap sheets are longer than yours!" Steve snapped. "We found a carton of Gold Coast cigarettes with your fingerprints all over them in her garbage. They weren't Mrs. Strickland's. How did that get there?" Steve leaned in and glared at Pinto. There was fear in Pinto's eyes now. Steve had him.

"All right, so I was there," Pinto said, "but that doesn't mean nothing. I didn't kidnap her."

"Then what did happen?" Steve asked. "I want to hear all about it." He pulled up a chair, turning it so the back faced Pinto, and straddled it. "Just what happened when you were at Candy Strickland's house?"

Pinto hesitated, twiddling his thumbs, then spoke. "I can't just tell you. They'll kill me."

"We guarantee you full protection," Steve said. "You can't deny your way out of this. Frankie. You can't explain away your cigarettes in her waste basket, or your fingerprints on her kitchen window – the one you broke, remember?"

Pinto was starting to sweat. Steve had gotten to him. "All right, McGarrett, all right!" He tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. "I was told to go there …"

"By who?" Chin asked.

"I got a call that morning, telling me to go to that house in Halawa …" Frankie answered.

"Did you know Candy Strickland?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I did. She used to come around the Ocean Lounge sometimes …" The Ocean Lounge was where Frankie sometimes worked as a bouncer, and was one of the few island ventures Sammy Cassano has managed to maintain.

"Did she go there to talk to you?" Chin asked.

"No, no, she would come in with a man … some well-dressed guy." Frankie was trying to remember. "I don't know his name, but he came in with her a few times. They would laugh and talk – and hold hands."

Steve went to his desk and took out a picture of Allan Raider that the law firm sent them. He showed it to Frankie. "Is this the man?" Steve asked.

Frankie shook his head. "No, no, he had lighter hair, more reddish, and wavy …" Steve looked at Pinto, thought a moment, then went back to his desk and picked up the newspaper, opening to a page with an article on Raider, that went with a photo of Raider and Mayward.

"Is this the man?" Steve pointed to Mayward.

Pinto nodded. "Yeah, that's him. That's the man I saw her with …" Pinto was about to go on, but quickly stopped.

"And?" Steve asked. "You were about to say something."

Pinto closed his mouth tight. "I've already told you enough to get me killed. I ain't telling you nothing else." He crossed his arms and sunk his neck into his shoulders.

Steve threw up his hands and laughed. "Honestly, Frankie, do you really think we're going to stop there because you've decided not to talk?" Steve leaned over the back of the chair, looking Pinto right in the eye. "We've got you in a corner. You've already made yourself a turncoat in Cassano's eyes by identifying Curt Mayward, so there's no going back. You're still a suspect because we have you at the scene of the crime. Do you really we think will turn you lose on the street and it will be like before?" Steve's sardonic demeanor gave way to real anger. "After you walk out of this building, a car will drive by, shots will ring out, and you'll be lying dead on the sidewalk. Just think about it."

Pinto loosened his shoulders and looked straight up at Steve. "The word has gotten out on the street that I'm here. They know I talked to you, and it don't matter whether I told you nothing or not. They'll still think I'm a stoolie and wipe me out."

"We will protect you from them. I promise that," Steve said, "but is it worth it to keep quiet just to protect these people? You think they'll leave you alone, even if you never told us a thing?"

Pinto was silent. He was waiting for Steve to finish his pitch. Pinto was between a rock and a hard place. His fingerprints were at the crime scene, so he could not deny being there, and he fingered Curt Mayward as the man he saw with Candy at the Ocean Lounge. He talked this much. It would be foolish for him to clam up now, and he would not be safe once he left the walls of the palace.

Pinto sighed, then spoke. "All right, McGarrett. I'll lay it out for you, but you gotta believe me. I didn't kidnap her, and I didn't kill her."

"All right, Frankie," Steve said. "Go ahead. We're listening." Steve sat sidesaddle on the chair, leaning over the back and resting his chin on his fist.

"Arthur, the bartender at the Ocean Lounge, called me on Friday afternoon, sometime around five in the evening, and told me to go to Candy's place. I went there … I walked to her house, and Candy let me in. She handed me a bottle with some red stuff in it … it looked like red paint, I don't know, and she told me to pour it around the carpet, like it splattered there … I did, and then she handed me a hammer and told me to smash out the window in the kitchen, to make it look like a break-in. I just did what she told me …"

"And you weren't suspicious? You never questioned it? You didn't think all this was strange?" Steve asked.

"I did, but when you get orders from the Ocean Lounge, you listen, and that includes anyone you meet up when you go where they tell you to go," Pinto replied. "I smashed out the window, wiped my prints off the hammer, and wiped them off the bottle of red paint … I ain't no fool. I wasn't going to have that stuff linked to me."

"What about the cigarettes?" Steve asked.

"Candy had them already. She opened the package and gave them to me. I smoked a few, then I put them on the table in her living room …"

"How many did you smoke?" Chin asked.

"Four or five … That's all." The absence of any cigarette butts, coupled with the fact that the entire cigarette packet was empty, made this statement startling.

"Did Candy smoke any?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she did, too."

"How many?" Chin started to glare at Pinto.

"About the same." Pinto started to twiddle his thumbs again.

"And what happened to the rest?" asked Steve. "Cigarette cartons have to have at least twenty. If you smoked only four or five, and Candy smoked about the same amount, there had to be ten or twelve cigarettes left in the carton, and it was empty when we found it. And how could you have been so careful to wipe your fingers off that hammer and bottle of red paint or blood or whatever it was, but be so careless as to throw the cigarette carton with your fingerprints on it away? Someone at that house discarded the cigarette butts so they were completely gone, and scrubbed the ashtrays clean. You two took that much care, but didn't think to do so with the cigarette carton?" Steve was trying to sound incredulous, but he knew all along Pinto was holding back. Steve also thought of Mrs. Manolani. Candy had to know her and her nosy nature. Would she have allowed some strange man into her home, in plain sight of the woman's living room windows?

"Spill it, Frankie," Steve said. "You're not helping yourself by keeping silent."

"Okay! Okay!" Pinto wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "The carton was already half empty. That's how we were able to smoke off the whole pack. She had the place set up to look like there was fighting going on. She said there was a job she wanted me to do for her."

"What job?" Steve asked. He was starting to become impatient.

Pinto hesitated. "She wanted me to help her move her husband's body out of the house."

 **V**

Officer Kalua, the dispatcher at HPD headquarters was experiencing a slow afternoon. It seemed criminals were taking a break, or so he thought. The phone rang and Kalua grabbed it like it was the last piece of fruit on the vine.

"HPD," he said into the receiver. "Yes … where? … Three Sixty-Nine Hobron Lane, apartment B-Twelve … Got it. What is your name, sir? … Oh, okay. You want it to be anonymous. All right. Thank you. …" He hung up.

Kalua shook his head at the peculiarity of what he just heard, and picked up the receiver again and called the operator.

"Get me Five-O." In a few minutes, the phone was answered and the dispatcher explained, "Is McGarrett there? This is important. … Mr. McGarrett, this is Officer Kalua from Central Dispatch. I just got a call from an anonymous caller who says he has information about the Raider murder. He said to go to a place on Hobron Lane, Three Sixty-Nine, Apartment B-Twelve. … Yes, sir, Three Sixty-Nine. That's where Danny Williams lives, isn't it?" He listened while McGarrett spoke. "Yes, I thought you should know. … You're welcome, sir. I'll send the message out and have a car sent there right away."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **I**

There was nothing different about Danno's apartment, apart from Det. Ryerson from HPD's Homicide division, several HPD uniform officers, Doc Bergman the coroner, and some forensic technicians dusting for fingerprints and searching for other physical evidence. The main object of their attention was the dead body that lay on the living room carpet.

The body was that of a young man, somewhere in his mid to late twenties, clean-shaven, his hair neatly combed and gelled, dressed in a sharp gray suit and red tie. Danno put his hand over his mouth when he saw him.

"Do you know him, Danno?" Steve asked.

"I've never seen him before!" Danno cried. He was about to lose his mind. Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and took him out of the room, asking one of the HPD men standing guard outside to look after him. When Steve went back inside, Ryerson was waiting.

"The ID in his wallet says Anthony Curren, age twenty-seven. His address is in Pearl City," he said.

"What's he doing here?" Steve asked rhetorically.

"It wasn't to get shot twice. That much I can tell you," Ryerson replied. They knelt down and inspected the body. Curren lay face down on the white carpet. Two bullet wounds were evident – one on his left shoulder blade, and one on the small of his back.

Doc Bergman instructed the autopsy technicians to put the body into a body bag. As they were doing so, he spoke to Steve. "The time of death was no less than ten hours ago, judging by the body temperature," he said.

"That was before I picked up Danno and we went to Waialua," Steve said. He went outside to check on him. Danno was calmer now, not shaking physically, but Steve knew his partner long enough to know he was still shaking inside.

"I've never seen him before," Danno reiterated, "I don't know who he is." The officer wrote everything down like a secretary taking dictation. It was all routine to them – and should have been to Steve, except it was not, not when his closest friend who was giving the statement.

Steve took Danno aside. "I was alone when I left. You came up here and we left this apartment together. There was no one else here …"

"I can just hear the DA pick that apart …" Steve turned and walked away for a minute. He turned back to his partner. "He'll say that you're lying about letting me in."

"But I did let you in!" Danno cried. "I let you in, we had coffee, and then we left. You saw there was no body."

"There are no witnesses but you and me, and I'm partial," Steve replied, gently, with a smile. His face softened then, and he was trying to tell Danno he believed him and would always have his back. "My word isn't enough. You're still under suspicion because of Raider's murder. There's no doubt that there's a connection between him and Anthony Curren."

"Curren's name does sound familiar, Steve," Danno said, "but I can't place it."

"We've come across hundreds of people like this," Steve told him. "The time of death places him here when you were, but my being here just before we left throws a wrench into the idea that you killed him. Where was the body when I came in here, and how did it get onto your living room carpet when you were with me all day and could not have gone back here to move it? Plus, there are no blood trails. He died where he stood."

"So someone lured him here and killed him, but why?" Danno asked.

"To set you up again." Steve clenched his fist. Before Danno could speak again, a voice called out to Steve from inside.

"Steve, come here!" It was Ryerson. Steve motioned to Danno with his index finger, telling him he would be right back. Steve went back inside the apartment to see a uniformed officer pointing to the kitchen, at the back of the living room to the right. Ryerson and two more officers were looking over the horizontal freezer.

"Look at this, Steve," Ryerson pointed to a row of bricks of cocaine, lined up neatly inside the freezer, covered in a layer of frost. "They were under the frozen food." The forensic assistant held up a frosty gun, deposited inside a plastic bag.

"This was found under them," the assistant said.

"You know Danny didn't put them there," Steve said.

"It's not what I know. It's what I see." Ryerson looked like fatigued, but still impatient. He was ready to pin Danno as a murderer and a drug pusher, but Steve would not allow it. Danno came in, escorted by a uniformed officer. When he saw the drugs in his freezer, he turned white.

"I never saw that before!" he cried. Steve rushed to his partner's side, holding onto him, as though to protect him from the other officers, whom Steve knew would not harm Danno, but still had to uphold the law and arrest him.

"Let me take care of him, Doug," Steve addressed Ryerson by his first name. "You know he's innocent. I don't care what you see."

"All right, Steve," Ryerson complied. "He's your responsibility, but he's still going to be charged unless you can find out where those drugs came from and why there's a body in the living room. I've got to make a report, and Danny had better call a lawyer."

 **II**

Doc Bergman, the Oahu County coroner, adjusted his head mirror so it sat over the center of his forehead. He picked up the clipboard on which he wrote his findings from Curren's autopsy, and showed it to Steve as he spoke.

"A dead body's temperature decreases by one-and-a-half degrees every hour after death," Doc explained. "When I checked Curren's temperature, it was already eighty-six degrees. That means he had to have died sometime around seven in the morning, but something doesn't make sense…"

"Spill it, Doc." Steve was getting impatient.

"There were two bullet wounds – all premortem—but there was something on his clothes. They were wet. I sent them to Che to be examined."

"Wet, like he was splashed with water before he was killed?" asked Danno.

"No, his skin was cold to the touch, like he had been in cold storage," Doc said. When a body has been dead seven to ten hours like he allegedly was, putrefaction should have already started, but it had not yet begun. That only happens in cold climates, if the body was exposed to the freezing cold."

"To have him in cold storage, somewhere, only to bring his body out later sounds like a bit much, even if it is all part of a frame up," said Steve.

"On top of that, whoever killed him was someone who could get close to him without suspicion," Doc added. "The bullet wounds are of intermediate range, meaning the killer fired from six to eight inches away. That means gun powder particles are embedded into the skin, and the killer would have gun powder residue on him."Doc took off his glasses.

"Danny did a paraffin test yesterday, and the results were negative for traces of nitrate. Forensics has the gun from the freezer," Steve replied. "The nitrate test won't be enough, though.

"The prosecution will argue that nitrate can come from several other places in the environment – and they'll be right." He shook his head.

"The freezing of the body might fit, if the gun was stolen one week ago, like you suspect," Doc began, "but Curren could not have been killed just then, and stored in a freezer all this time. A regular freezer for home usage only freezes at minus twenty degrees. A body will still decompose, albeit slower than if it was at room temperature. If he was in a freezer, it had to have been only for a day or two prior to his body being dumped at Danny's place."

"This case is getting more complicated by the hour," Steve replied. His blue eyes were starting to tire, but his spirit was not allowing him to stop.

"I wish I could tell you more, Steve. I'm sorry." Doc took off his head mirror. "We got the autopsy results on Raider in, as well. He died sometime early Friday evening, between seven and eight. His body temperature was around seventy-three degrees."

"I wasn't at his office at all," Danno said. "I was already on the road, going to Candy's place."

"There's no one who can say they saw you. You didn't stop anywhere," Steve said.

"I thought you were on my side." Danno turned cross.

"I am, but I also have to know the facts and think one step ahead of the DA's office," Steve replied. "We have to think of how they'll use all this evidence against you. Raider's office isn't too far from the palace. They'll say could have easily gone there, shot Raider, then been on your way to Halawa. Even with traffic, you'd get there within half an hour."

"Che has to examine these bullets as well," Doc reminded them. "Without knowing where they came from or the origin of the gun, we can't say who is responsible."

 **III**

John Manicote, the district attorney, was beyond stressed. His once dark hair was showing signs of gray, and his gray-green eyes were fiery with tension. He was not in any mood for an argument, but unless he sided with Steve, he was going to get one.

"Steve, the evidence is stacking up against, Danny!" Manicote walked around the corner of his desk and waved his hand downwards in emphasis. "First, his girlfriend disappears at the same time her estranged husband is killed, then his voice shows up on an answering machine, having an argument with gunshots fired …"

"And that was proven to be a fake," Steve interjected. "We didn't find who made the voice recording, but every voiceover actor in Hawaii was checked out. There aren't many, so it didn't take too long. None of them were commissioned to any recording like it. Che took samples of their voices and gave them to Dr. Burlison. He ran them against the recording from Raider's answering machine and got no match."

"That still doesn't explain the body of Anthony Curren and the twenty kilos of cocaine in Danny's apartment," Manicote replied. "And that gun from the freezer was used to kill Curren."

"You think Danny put it there?" Steve asked, incredulous. "You really think he's that stupid?"

Manicote was exasperated, and he didn't hide the look on his face. "It's not about what I think. It's what a jury will think!" he insisted. "I know Danny is innocent, but a grand jury will not rule on my opinion, or yours, or anyone else's. All the evidence points to him, and he has no defense."

"Just where did he get that cocaine from, may I ask?" Steve was pushing the envelope with his sarcasm and insolence, but he found the whole situation to be absurd, in light of what he knew about Curren's murder.

"He was cozy with Candy Strickland," Manicote reminded him, "and she was still in with the mob. We checked on her, from before she even worked for Cassano. Cassano made trips over here, and she was seen with him. She also spent time with Danno in his apartment. She was there last week ago and spent the whole weekend with him. He had been seeing her for the past year." Manicote gestured wildly with his hands and glared at Steve. He was trying hard to get Steve to see things his way, but knowing he was talking about Steve's second-in-command and closest friend, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Manicote took a deep breath, exhaled then spoke again.

"Look, Steve, if you want to clear Danny, you have to trace that cocaine and that second gun, and find Candy Strickland or at least what happened to her if she's not alive. Otherwise, this is all going to blow up in our faces."

"The cocaine doesn't even have his fingerprints on it." Steve shifted positions in the green armchair in front of Manicote's desk. "But you'll argue he used gloves when handling them. Curren wasn't even killed at Danny's apartment. The lack of blood around the corpse proves it."

Manicote nodded. Steve went on. "Someone was setting him up, for what reason I don't know. Curren's body was in cold storage. He might have been killed days earlier and put into a freezer, while someone broke in to Danno's place and planted the cocaine and the gun."

"Ryerson said there was a layer of frost on top," Manicote said. "That meant it had been there for a few days, yet Danno never looked into that freezer once the whole time?"

"He told me there was not much in it except a box of popsicles and some TV dinners – which were found under the cocaine bricks. He didn't restock the freezer for a while, but knowing what was originally inside and not needing to eat any of it right away, he didn't open the freezer for several days. That's understandable, and could happen – given that Danny's a bachelor and eats out more often. Plus, who sits on top of drugs for that long anyway? That cocaine would need to be cut, distributed, and sold. That usually happens as soon as the distributor gets it. If he was holding onto it for someone, they should have come to claim it and never did. They wouldn't wait more than one or two days."

"I just hope all this leads somewhere, Steve," Manicote replied. "I don't want to see Danny get indicted for murder and drug possession …"

"The only way this could happen is if someone got their hands on Danno's gun when he wasn't looking, and who better than Candy Strickland? When she spent the weekend with Danno, she could have gotten a hold of his gun, given it to someone else, then gotten it back and put it back where Danno kept it last Friday."

"And how does that explain the body being dead for only ten hours?" Manicote asked. "Curren could not have been murdered one week ago, his body kept in cold storage somewhere, and then thawed and dumped in Danny's living room to put a frame on him."

Manicote got up, stuck one hand in his pocket, and gestured with the other. "Even if all this happened – and that's a great, big 'if' – how do you explain someone bringing a dead body into a building without being seen?"

"Simple," Steve replied casually, "they carried him in."

"Ask a stupid question …" Manicote muttered.

"I'm serious, John," Steve said. "There's a back entrance, and a maintenance elevator. It wouldn't take them much to bribe someone who worked in that building. They couldn't climb in through the balcony with the body. The front door is the only way. The body had to have been wrapped in something – maybe a garbage bag or canvas, or a rug. They brought it in during the day, when we were out. Danno lived on the third floor, and the first floor is a lobby and mailroom. The maintenance elevator is in the back of the first floor, at the end of a hallway, where not many people go. They wouldn't have far to go to get that body there."

"It's all nice in theory," Manicote pointed out, "but we need hard evidence. I have to present my case to grand jury this Thursday. If you don't have any evidence to clear Danno of Curren's murder and the drug possession charge by then, it's a slam dunk for indictment."

In basketball, a slam dunk was a good thing, but in law, it was only good news to the prosecutors.

"We'll have that evidence by Thursday, and then some," Steve promised, getting up and looking Manicote in the eye. The DA knew from past experiences what that look meant; the indomitability that Steve's ocean blue eyes displayed meant that he would indeed clear his friend's name.

 **IV**

Danno was still a wreck, and Steve didn't blame him. He urged him to take the day off and go to Steve's beach house on Waikiki, but Danno wouldn't budge.

"I can't just walk out of here when they're about to lock me away for crimes I didn't commit," he said. Steve thought it best to let him do as he wished. It wouldn't help to upset Danno even more. Chin went up to Steve with some teletypes and handwritten notes.

"We got something on Anthony Curren," he said.

"Let's have it," Steve replied.

"Curren is from Pearl City, but originally came from Southern California. He had priors for breaking and entering and drug possession in California, and also worked in the nightclub circuit there, including working for Sammy Cassano. Then he seemed to clean up and come to Hawaii, where he worked as a salesman in a sporting goods store in Aiea. He used to work for Sammy Cassano at The Cherokee Club. He was working at The Ocean Lounge up until now."

"It all fits so perfectly," Steve replied.

"This gets more confusing by the minute," Kono said as he stirred his coffee.

"What's more, in California, Curren worked part time for a warehouse that stored electronics and housewares," Chin said. "It was in San Bernardino."

"When did Curren come to Hawaii?" Steve asked.

"In April of nineteen sixty-five," Chin answered. "It seems that everyone involved with this case left for Hawaii within months of each other."

"And I doubt it's any coincidence," Steve said. "Was Mayward questioned?" Steve turned to the men.

Chin and Kono shook their heads. "He wasn't at home or at his office," Kono replied. "We're still trying."

"There's your answer," Jayna pointed out. "He's probably hiding out because he's guilty. Despite that, he and Pinto weren't eliminated as fast as Curren. Intelligence told me they have a lot on these guys. The file is as thick as _War and Peace_."

"And a lot more tragic," Steve added, rubbing his forehead and stirring his coffee.

"There's some hope," Jayna said. "I just got off the phone with a detective from LA. He said Sammy Cassano was seen boarding a Hawaiian Airlines flight to Honolulu this morning."

The men looked at each other, astonished. "We should make it a point to drop in on him sometime," Steve said. "Show him that Hawaiian hospitality we're famous for."

 **V**

The soft sounds of lounge music permeated the air as ice crackled inside the ice crusher. Sammy Cassano scooped up some of the crushed ice and dumped it into two rocks glasses. Over the ice he poured a dark amber liquid, its dregs rising to the top and disintegrating. He picked up one glass and tasted it. Satisfied with the results, he set it down and looked at the door. It led to an alcove used as a dressing room.

Two old suitcases sat on the floor by the bed, and a boarding pass with Cassano's name lay on the nightstand. He had flown in from LA that afternoon, and went straight to his house overlooking the beach in Southeastern Oahu. As he looked out at the shore, the sea was still, the breeze faint, and the tall grass and flowers tilted only slightly to the east.

First Granger, then Shelly … was that how it happened? But Granger – was that even his real name? – was dead, two bullets in him. Shelly was strangled. The money disappeared. Candy got scared. He could sense it. She wouldn't stay here too long if she could help it, but he had to keep her close. She knew something; she could talk, but he couldn't have more dead bodies piling up. He had to keep her alive, but within sight. Then she took up with Raider. He still had to keep an eye on her somehow. He told Raider to watch her, told the boys at the Ocean Lounge to keep an eye on her … And Granger ... someone was onto him. They knew about the deal and the money … was it one of the other outfits? Cosa Nostra? But they don't steal from anyone. Licata? Maybe. Bonnano? Another possibility. Dippolito? Probably. He'd be acting on Licata's orders.

Cassano went to the bar and put some ice into the ice crusher. The sound of glacial cracking filled the room for a few minutes, then was silenced as he opened the ice crusher and spooned its contents into two rock glasses. Over the ice, he poured some Kentucky bourbon. The dark amber liquid immersed itself with the crushed ice, creating an earthy slush under a tawny sea.

The knock on the door was accompanied by the houseboy calling, "May I come in, sir?"

"Yes, Irwin, come in." Cassano sipped some of the bourbon. Irwin, a young Chinese boy in a white jacket and black slacks, entered and held the door open for Curt Mayward.

"Thank you, Irwin. That'll be all." Cassano waved.

Irwin bowed his head slightly and left, closing the door behind him. Cassano handed Mayward the other glass of bourbon.

"I guess it would be too premature to clink glasses," he said.

"I'll say it is." Mayward glared suspiciously at Cassano.

"Why are you so glum, Curt?" Cassano asked. "It's not you who's losing business." Cassano spoke with as much gravity as Mayward. Neither was in the mood for frivolity. "The cops and the Feds are closing in on every family in Southern California. Business is not booming anymore, so it's time to find greener pastures. There's no better place than Hawaii."

"Is that why you sent Raider here?" Curt asked, but it was rhetorical.

"Yes, and no. Raider set things up nicely enough, but he wasn't as efficient. He couldn't get Kaisara's boys to back off, and he wasn't increasing our profits like he should." Cassano spoke casually, sipping down the bourbon.

"Did he have to die because of it?" Mayward asked bluntly.

"Who said he died because of his weak management skills?" Cassano asked. "He was in too deep. He was a liability. He was the best at what he did, and yet he didn't deliver. I knew something was going on, so I had Candy do some spy work for me."

"Just how did you get her to go along?" Mayward asked.

"It's amazing how little it takes to buy a woman," Cassano replied. "She got some jewels and cash in return, and I found out our friend Raider was friendly with the Samoans. That was why he wasn't doing much to establish our territory."

"And Candy decided to drop him, just like that?" Mayward asked.

"You know easily bored she gets," Cassano began, "and how she flitters from one man to the other. I was amazed that she got married at all." He poured some more bourbon. "For her to have stayed with him for three years is a record, and they had not started divorce proceedings at all."

"All so that she could keep tabs on him?" Mayward asked.

"Yes, but a lot harder when they aren't living together, but she was bored and wanted her own space." Cassano sat on a plush couch.

Mayward said little, but listened a lot. It forced the crime boss to show his hand.

"I fixed her up with that nice cottage because she asked for it, and but she also allowed Raider to visit – once in a while."

"And Williams?" Mayward asked.

"The perfect patsy, also an obstacle, along with that major pain of a boss of his," Cassano snickered. "Candy didn't intend to wrangle herself a cop, she was just acting on her carnal instincts when she saw Williams. A pretty boy and he warmed he bed up nicely. Everything else fell into place when she told me who he was. He arrested some of our boys over the past few years, and shut down a few gambling rings they set up. Setting him up for murder puts him out of commission. Making it Raider's murder was the icing on the cake.

"Curren's murder was also killing two birds with one stone. He knew too much, and if the cops got a hold of him, we couldn't risk him opening his mouth." Cassano sat back and closed his eyes for second, then opened them.

"Five-O is good, damn good," Mayward warned him. "They saw through the phony tape recording. They won't forget that, even if the frame for Curren's murder works. They'll smell a rat, and McGarrett will do all he can to clear his boy." The words of warning were understandable, but Mayward said them more to see Cassano's response than to caution him.

"And I'll be ready," Cassano said, "and waiting. They padded their parts with the answering machine tape, but how can they explain the bullets from Williams's gun inside Raider and the gun used to kill Curren in his freezer? They'll try, but it won't be easy."

"Candy is waiting for her next act," Mayward replied, finishing what was left of his drink.

"Let the curtain rise." Cassano finished the second glass of bourbon and set it on the table, "and let's see McGarrett explain this one away."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **I**

Before Jayna got the dope on all the players involved, Steve suggested they search Candy's apartment. It was not a crime scene, but Five-O got the manager to keep it intact so they could search for evidence. It would be one of the first places anyone associated with this crime would go, and be able to easily steal or destroy anything incriminating if it was there, since the police wouldn't have cordoned it off as quickly as Candy's cottage, since that was the actual crime scene.

The apartment was in the Moanalua Hillside Apartments on Ala Kapuna Street, off Moanalua Road. It consisted of a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, with a dining area within the living room, and a balcony. The furnishings were a combination of koa wood, black leather, forest green chenille, and ceramic vases and ashtrays. The floor of the living room was covered in an off-white shag carpet, and the walls were painted a darker shade of the same color. The only framed photos were a picture of Candy and Danno on her coffee table, and two large photos of sailboats – one in the harbor amidst others of its kind and the other navigating its way through a royal blue ocean – hanging side-by-side on the wall running perpendicular to the balcony.

The kitchen was made up of walnut cabinets and light gray Bianco Romano countertops. The marble had not been exposed to many spills or cleanings as would be normal if the kitchen got a fair amount of usage, otherwise Candy was very meticulous about cleaning. The kitchen was practically spotless. The refrigerator was bare except for some prepackaged food items purchase only a week or so ago. The expiration dates were close to month from now. The cabinets contained a few canned items, bottles of tomato sauce, and unopened boxes of spaghetti. The dishwasher was empty, the sink was bone dry, and the garbage can contained only a ripped wrapper from a package of frozen vegetables and some takeout food wrappings.

While Steve examined the contents of the living room more closely, Jayna went into the bedroom. The feminine touch was definitely present here. The room was painted a light pink, the pink was so faint the walls would appear white to the untrained eye. The bed was right across the room from the door. The bed frame was white metal, and the bedspread was a baby pink quilt.

The closet revealed nothing startling, except for some fancy evening gowns, covered in sequins and glitter, and some day dresses in different colors. The shoe rack at the bottom of the closet held various high heels – pumps, kittens, and stilettos. A lone pair of sneakers stood out amongst them. The top shelf of the closet contained some hat and shoe boxes. Pulling each box out, Jayna went through their contents. Two of the hat boxes contained hats, and the third contained unopened cosmetics. The shoe boxes were devoid of any unworn shoes.

Instead, she found bills for rent, utility, credit cards, and dry cleaning. There were receipts from department stores and grocer's bills, filled out on the yellow paper that is the customer's copy. Jayna noticed that there were no documents that dated to before Candy came to Hawaii. There Rent and utility bills should be saved for up to seven years for tax purposes, yet there was nothing from before nineteen sixty-four. It might not mean much, but Jayna was trained not to overlook any detail, no matter how miniscule it might seem. There were also no photos, not even bundled in rubber stands in lieu of being pasted into scrapbooks or photo albums. There was nothing – not even an old, dilapidated Valentine or a birthday card – to indicate she had any type of social correspondence, regardless of the year. The closet yielded no diaries, letters, yearbooks, school photos, or even a hotel matchbox to show she traveled somewhere other than where they knew she had been.

The search seemed futile, till Jayna decided to move on to the vanity. A vanity made of white wood with gilt trimmings and brass handles stood against the adjacent wall on the left side. There was a square-shaped perfume bottle, a jar of talcum powder, and some miscellaneous lipsticks, an eye shadow compact, and jars and bottles of skin cream sitting on the countertop. A large, round, amber-colored brush with nylon bristles and a matching comb sat next to a pad of fancy stationary.

The stationary caught Jayna's eyes the moment she first saw it. The paper was a creamy pink color with maroon flower petals embedded. It's not the kind of paper one finds in any ordinary stationary shop or drugstore. Jayna took out a pencil and scribbled on the top sheet, looking to see if any indentations from the previous note were present. Gently ripping out the paper and holding it to the light, she was able to make out a few words and letters.

There was a capital letter "C," then a lowercase "a," a lowercase "s," then spaces, then a lowercase "o." It didn't take a handwriting expert to figure out that Candy wrote "Cassano." Under it, were some numbers. Jayna cold make out two eights, a seven, and a four. It might be a phone number, but Che would have to check on that. Under that, the name "Candy" was written. Why was Candy writing her own name on a notepad?

The explanation struck Jayna like an electric shock. It all made sense now – Candy being evasive about discussing her past, Shelly Vogel … If Jayna's hunch was right, the information her contacts in Intelligence provide might back it up.

Steve's knock on the doorframe broke her chain if thought, but it was recorded in her memory. Steve looked at her with gentle and amused eyes, knowing he knew she had come up with something.

"There's nothing in the living room. I take it you solved the case?" He walked towards her.

"Not quite," Jayna replied, "but I found something interesting which might get us closer." She showed him the note and the indents, then explained what they might mean. Steve didn't hesitate to agree with her.

"That Candy didn't say too much about her past and didn't want to discuss it with Danno was suspicious enough, but it would fit if she was not Candy Strickland," he said.

"And we only knew her as Candy Strickland, because that's how she identified herself," Jayna added. "Raider's dead, and there's no one who knew her on the mainland to identify her. Curt Mayward referred to her as Candy, but he might be lying. He said he met her for the first time here, when they moved here and Raider started working with him."

"Then how do you explain real Candy Strickland and Shelly Vogel changing places?" Steve asked. "Shelly could not have assumed Candy's identity after the real Candy was killed. Raider and Cassano would have known who was who. They both worked for Cassano and would have met or seen Raider."

"If they switched names before they took up with Cassano, it's possible," Jayna replied. "Then Cassano and Raider would have known them by the switched names. It would have been very easy for the girls to then get the proper paperwork to pass themselves off as such, and it would explain how the body found in the apartment was identified as Shelly Vogel."

"Nightclub employees in California have to be registered with the police," Steve added, "so Candy and Shelly's fingerprints would be on file …"

"Just under the wrong names," Jayna finished. "So when the they checked the prints on the body in Candy's apartment, they were identified as Shelly Vogel's – because Candy passed herself off as Shelly Vogel when she registered, and when she got her driver's license and Social Security Card."

"It's all conjecture, Jayna," Steve told her, "but it's crazy enough to make sense."

"We need to check further back, see if these girls have records – criminal or otherwise – anywhere else, talk to people who knew them in school … Phil can get some people to do that." Jayna was determined to prove her theory, and Steve believed it more by the minute. It would explain the lack of any physical past from the woman calling herself Candy Strickland.

"The living room was neat as a pin, as though it was hardly lived in," Steve said as he looked out the bedroom window. "What did the neighbors say about her?"

"That she kept to herself and was bothersome," Jayna answered. "The landlord was happy as long as she paid the rent on time – typical of someone who doesn't want to be noticed."

"Call the Phil and the LAPD and tell them to find Candy's relatives and show them photos of both women, and ask them to identify them." Steve turned back. "Have the forensics team dust this place from top to bottom, if they haven't done so already."

Jayna went to the phone, a pink Princess sitting on a white wooden nightstand, and dialed Che's lab.

 **II**

Che Fong and his assistant, Arnold Kim, had every reason to be excited about their analysis of the fingerprints and other evidence. He held up Danno's gun, now coated in dark blue powder for lifting fingerprints.

"Candy Strickland's thumbprint is on Danny's gun," he said.

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" Steve said. Danno breathed a sigh of relief, but he was still ill at ease.

"That doesn't quite get me off the suspects' list, does it?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, Danno, it doesn't but it does raise a lot of questions and pokes holes in the idea that you killed Curren," Steve assured him.

"Curren's fingerprints matched a set of unknown prints we found in Raider's office," Arnold said. "We ran it against the local database and got nothing, then we ran it against the national database and got a match from his nightclub registration in California."

"That means Curren killed Raider?" Danno asked.

"It could," Che answered. "Or it just means that they were in contact. Curren and Raider both worked for Cassano, and knew each other as a result."

"Curren's prints were also found on the passenger side door handle of Candy's car," Arnold added.

"The whole frame-up fell apart with the tape," Danno said. "They had to have known we'd test it."

"Not everyone is that well-versed on police procedure," Steve said.

"Do you remember if your gun was ever out of your sight?" Che asked.

"Only when I put it away for the night," Danno answered. "I keep it inside a cupboard in my living room."

"Then Candy could have gotten to it?" asked Steve.

"She could have, but I locked the cupboard. She saw me put it there once. I didn't think I needed to keep it a secret. She said she was afraid of guns."

"She's not much for telling the truth," Steve said. "She's probably an expert lock picker."

"And I slept through it?" Danno asked. He turned away, trying to think … then, he remembered. "Now, I remember … I remember—we had a drink. She made it. I didn't see her making it. Her back was to me. She handed it to me. I didn't think much of it. I drank it, then I felt drowsy. I was annoyed. I didn't want to sleep so soon, but Candy said we had the whole weekend, and I had a rough day, so it was better that I go to sleep now. She helped me get into bed, then I fell asleep once my head hit the pillow."

"Then Candy went straight to the cabinet in your living room and picked the lock, took out your gun, wiped it, and gave it to whoever was working with her," Steve stated.

"When did you get to Candy's place on Friday?" Arnold asked Danno.

"At around seven, a few minutes after that," he answered.

"She could not have slipped his gun back into its holster with Danno wearing it," Che replied.

"She could if he wasn't wearing it," Arnold said. They all knew at what he was hinting. Knowing Danno's reputation for living an active life as a free-swinging bachelor, it was no surprise if what Arnold inferred was the truth.

Danno confirmed it with a nod. "Yes, we did get … close … that night, too."

"Where did you leave your holster?" asked Steve.

"On her coffee table," Danno replied. "I never thought about it … I didn't think …" he began to panic. Steve put his hand on his partner's shoulder, gently squeezing it to get his attention and end the panic attack.

"It's all right, Danno," Steve said. "You're only human. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do."

"This'll make the DA's case easier," Danno worried.

"We're making it so this case won't go to court," Steve assured him.

"You've got a long way to go, Steve," Che warned. "You have three days, and Manicote's got quite a case worked up."

"Yeah, we've got the 'who' and 'how.' Now, all we need is the 'why'," Steve replied.

"And the why's are your department," Che retorted, with a sly smile.

 **III**

Candy lounged on the back patio, careful not to let anyone see her. Her honey blonde locks glinted even more in the sunlight. Her blue eyes looked at the world through thick-rimmed sunglasses. The back yard was so wide, with trees serving as a barrier on one side, and a fence separating the yard on the other side – several yards away, that anyone watching would need binoculars to see her. Better to be safe anyway and not give them an excuse to gossip, she thought as she got up off the lounge chair and went inside, leaving the calm ocean and soft breeze to continue their silent repartee without her to witness. She set her sunglasses and the fashion magazine she was reading on the dining table and poured some coffee into a light blue mug. After a dollop of milk and a tablespoon of sugar were added, she held the mug to her lips and breathed in the caffeinated steam.

The heavy footsteps told her she had a visitor. Candy looked up to see Sammy Cassano enter. He was tired, but not about to collapse.

"Long night?" she asked, her coral-coated lips forming a smile.

"No, but they will be coming up pretty fast," Cassano said as he raided the cupboards in search of something stronger than coffee. "Curt came over this morning, while you were out. He's not too sure we're going to make this work."

"They were able to see through that tape," Candy admonished. "I told you it wasn't going to wash."

"But how will they get around the gun and the candycaine in his freezer?" Cassano countered. "The boys were able to pay a maintenance man to look the other way while they went in through the back elevator. No one else saw them, and they got away with it."

"What did they do? Tell him they had a dead body to dump in Danny's living room?" Candy asked, incredulous. She went to the refrigerator to get more cream.

"Of course," Cassano watched as she walked by. "What do you think they did? They told him they were delivering a rug, and he bought it."

Candy picked at her nails casually. "I just hope it works. I'll be putting myself out there."

"Not any more than you already have," Cassano replied, his voice gravelly. "Just remember your part and do it exactly as you were told." He moved two wine bottles out of the way and reached into the back of a shelf.

"How come you never helped me get into movies, Sammy?" Candy asked, putting her elbows on the table and propping her chin on her hands.

"Because you do enough acting in real life." Cassano reached for the bourbon bottle and a rock glass.


End file.
